


A Blessing and A Curse

by BannerApples



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dead by Daylight au, Fake AH Crew, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, I haven't decided if I want to make this Happy or Angst-ridden, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Other, Vagabond is the Entity's Bitch basically, kinda slow burn?, maybe major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BannerApples/pseuds/BannerApples
Summary: The Fake AH Crew are good at what they do. They all have a special set of skills that help them get a leg up on the other gangs in Los Santos. Geoff, for example, is really good at rounding up rowdy adults and making them Work.The Vagabond has a different sort of special skills.He Hunts for the mysterious Entity, his very own personal Spider God. Unfortunately, some people are not satisfied with his explanation being "I do torture REALLY well", and need to check up on him every once in a while. As expected when your Boss is a giant giddy man-child, and your Other Boss is a creepy spider-like apparition, things go Very Wrong.(aka that DbD AU the FAHC Discord didn't ask for but got anyways. Sorry in advance once this gets rolling for any pain/heartbreak caused. <3)





	1. Campfire

**Author's Note:**

> So Shenanigans happened over at the FAHC Discord, and this got real away from me, real fast. I, uh, I don't really regret anything cause I Live for Angst, but basically I was fuelled by alcohol and cough medicine so...
> 
> Cross-posted on [my shiny new fahc blog](http://fiendfyrenightmare.tumblr.com).
> 
> It's short for a prologue and because it's So Late It's Early, and more will be coming soon!

“I’ll be back in two days, Geoff. It’s not like I’m flying out of the country. I’m just taking the van up to the Bunker.”

Phone pressed loosely to his ear, the Vagabond chuckled. His other hand dug into the pocket of his leather jacket and retrieved the keys to the unmarked black van, pressing down on the starter. Parked at the end of the row, the vehicle rumbled to life, already loaded with supplies and its passengers.

“No, I don’t need anyone to come with me. You know that I’m perfectly capable of getting this done solo. Besides, Gavin’s gag reflex. Yes. I’m not cleaning vomit from my van, boss.”

He opened the driver’s door and threw his bag across the seat to the passenger’s and climbed in. Settling into the well-worn leather, Ryan adjusted the steering wheel and buckled in. He rolled his eyes in response to Geoff on the other side of the call, and said his goodbyes before hanging up and slipping his phone into an inner pocket.

Ryan reached up and hit the garage door opener, slowly pulling the van forward until it cleared the sensors and he pressed it again, watching his side mirror as the door slid down. A quick twist and the radio blared to life, some shitty pop station crackling to life through the old stereo. He smiled and began to hum along, drifting along with the traffic towards the freeway where he merged into the flow heading north out of the city.

It would take him a few hours at least to get to the Bunker, and while the ride was smooth, he couldn’t resist swaying to the rumble strips just to watch the four bodies bound and gagged and unconscious in the back of the van bump around in his rear-view.

These ones showed promise, after all. It had taken a few days each to track them down, and he thanked the B Team as much as his hardened facade would allow. Which pretty much meant that he treated them all to milkshakes on Vespucci and threatened murder if anyone found out what he did.

At least the Entity would be pleased with this batch of Sacrifices. They’d draw the Game out long enough to pose a challenge. It had been some time since he could lose himself in a proper Hunt and as much as he loved his crew, Ryan was going stir-crazy from being confined to Los Santos.

\--

He laughed darkly under his mask, safe in the knowledge they couldn’t hurt him here. Dark eyes easily swept through the gloomy fog and trees to pick out another victim. He had been right; they were proving to be a challenge. The first one had taken some time to track down, enough for them to figure out that they should get the generators running; and for two of them to get one of the loud machines fixed.

He cherished the pained screams he could hear behind him even as the Entity materialized with a shlick-sounding noise. The man screamed louder in terror and struggled, trying to wrench the rusted hook out of his shoulder and prevent the black ichor-like claw from digging into his chest. In the far distance, the cawing of crows drew his attention and a savage grin split his lips.

The Vagabond moved.


	2. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few more to go until Angst(tm) happens. I'm excited.

“No, I’m not going to pick up food just so you can have something to eat at the penthouse. Why didn’t Jack go shopping?”

Ryan sighed and kicked the door to his personal apartment shut. It had been three days since he had left for the Bunker, and after dropping the van back at its lot, he just wanted to sleep. Trips like this always left him tired and drained.

“No Michael I just got home. I’m gonna go pass out on my bed before I fall asleep standing up.”

Toeing his boots off, he tried not to groan loudly in relief. Already he could hear the tinny sound of Gavin noticing Michael on the phone while Jeremy yelled something indistinct in the background. “Fine, I’ll pick up Cluckin’ Bell or something when I wake up, you fucker.”

Ryan ended the call and tossed his phone onto his couch, flopping face down on it with a muffled groan as stiff muscles relaxed. He resisted the urge just to pass out there, and after a few moments dragged himself to the bedroom. He didn’t even feel like showering first, just stripped down and crawled under the covers, and promptly fell asleep.

\--

Geoff called a meeting a week later. Ryan wasn’t quite paying attention but no one would know as long as he didn’t fall asleep, considering he was wearing his mask. It was mostly standard things, like when the next prep for a heist was, or an arms deal someone needed to go supervise, or who made contact with them now.

Afterwards, the Kingpin pulled him aside and sat him down, eyes drooping in worry.

“Hey man, I know you just went out there like last week, but I’ve got a VIP that needs taken care of and one of our contacts snitched. Can you take care of it?”

“Of course, Geoff.” Ryan frowned. “You know you can always count on me.”

“Good. Uh.” A muscle in his jaw jumped from nerves. “It won’t be the only thing.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh. I need you to also pick up. The uh, shipment of explosives coming in from the docks tonight, before you go.”

Ryan’s frown deepened. “Why can’t Michael do that? He normally handles the firepower.”

“He uh has that meeting with the Haus crew tonight. This shipment wasn’t, uh, supposed to be here for another week.”

“Alright. Give me three hours to get prepped and I’ll drop it off at our warehouse before taking the van up to the Bunker.” Ryan shook his head softly and clapped a hand to Geoff’s shoulder. Behind the mask, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “I know you’re getting on in years and need your beauty sleep, so I’ll text Jack if anything happens.”

“Oh, fuck you, Haywood.”

“You wish, Ramsey.”

\--

“Alright, it’s gonna go like this.” The Vagabond grinned behind his mask, machete dripping with blood. “I’m gonna slap you up on this here hook, you aren’t getting off it, and your soul is gonna go feed the Entity in a never-ending torturous existence. That sound alright to you?”

The woman at his knees whimpered, shivering badly in fear. Her leg was bent at an odd angle, forcing her to crawl if she wanted to get away. The Vagabond almost giggled with giddiness, reaching down and hoisting her up with one arm. She immediately struggled and screamed, trying to get down. Anything would be better than the gently swaying hook, covered in dry blood and viscera, which was slowly getting closer.

Almost gently, the Vagabond rested the tip of the hook to her shoulder blade, and then with a small grunt of effort, he pushed hard and forced it through her back and out her chest. The woman stilled, hanging for a moment before with a rush of energy, started shaking herself back and forth, hands slippery with blood on the chain above her trying to get a grip.

A generator in the distance boomed, and if one listened carefully they would be able to hear the angry screaming of someone who had just fucked something up. Wiping the blood on his blade off on his jeans, the Vagabond turned away with a cheery whistle. Behind him, the woman gasped with gurgling breath as the Entity shimmered into life around her. Long black claws pierced her flesh and almost lovingly raised her up off the hook; her body disappearing into the ichor the dripped free.

A drop splashed on the Vagabond’s leather covered shoulder, and one claw tenderly scraped against him to collect it before it too vanished into the open sky. A pulse of air and a flash through the sky signalled the acceptance of the Sacrifice, and the Hunter slowly strolled away into the fog.


End file.
